


No Plan Survives

by thewightknight



Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015), Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Anal Sex, Anger Management, Blow Jobs, Hate Sex, Inappropriate Use of the Force, M/M, Rough Sex, Swearing, fighting turns to fucking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-26
Updated: 2016-05-26
Packaged: 2018-07-10 06:41:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,975
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6970363
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thewightknight/pseuds/thewightknight
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Hux complains about Ren’s destructive tendencies he expected Snoke to step in.  It never occurred to him that Snoke might delegate.  Hux is forced to face Ren down and order him to find another outlet for his temper.  Property destruction ceases but then random disturbances start to break out in the ranks all over the Finalizer, and after some sleuthing Hux discovers that Ren has taken a novel approach to anger management.</p>
            </blockquote>





	No Plan Survives

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the [2016 Kylux Big Bang](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/KyluxBigBang2016/works). Huge thanks to [quoting-shakespeare-to-ducks](http://quoting-shakespeare-to-ducks.tumblr.com/) for her excellent beta-ing! Any lingering mistakes are 100% my fault.
> 
> With [art](https://66.media.tumblr.com/340f944e9c4682cd45fe13f1c20f7547/tumblr_o85vjdm59e1vwxbhqo1_1280.png) by [generallyelusive](http://generallyelusive.tumblr.com/).

“You asked for an audience, General Hux?” He couldn’t say whether Snoke’s hologram flickered or if an expression crossed his face. Hux hoped for the former, because that looked suspiciously like a smirk pulling at the corners of the Supreme Leader’s mouth.

“Supreme Leader, it’s Kylo Ren. He’s becoming increasingly destructive.”

“And?” Snoke prompted when Hux stopped.

“Our resources are strained. We are in the final stages of construction for Starkiller base. Along with the time and cost of replacing the equipment he destroys, he is also affecting morale. It needs to stop, Supreme Leader.”

“Well, then, you must tell him so, General Hux.”

“Me, my lord?”

Snoke nodded and the hologram flickered again and went out. After a few moments Hux realized he’d frozen with his mouth hanging open and shut it with a snap. Squaring his shoulders, he marched from the chamber.

“Where is he?” Hux asked as he reached the command center. He didn’t have specify who he meant.

“Rear starboard viewport, sir.”

As he strode through the corridors Hux planned down to the syllable exactly what he would say. His face must be a sight, he realized, as he noticed people scrambling to get out of his way. He tried to school his expression but found himself scowling again in only a few minutes and gave it up as a lost cause.

He found the viewport locked and punched in his override code. Ren didn’t move from where he stood when Hux entered, didn’t turn to acknowledge his presence. His back to Hux, he continued to stare out at the stars.

“Ren,” Hux began. Ren still didn’t move. “I have just come from discussing your tantrums with the Supreme Leader.” Did Ren’s shoulders tense in response? “He is in agreement with me that they must stop.” He got a quarter-turn of the helmet at that but Ren still didn’t speak. “You will restrain yourself while you are aboard this ship. Is that understood?” 

Hux knew Ren could probably sense his agitation, the elevated heartbeat, possibly even smell the sweat that had begun to trickle down his back as the silence stretched out between them.

Finally, Ren nodded. “Very well.” With that, he turned away again and resumed staring outwards.

Hux blinked in shock. That was it? He could see Ren’s reflection in the port window but it gave him nothing. Damn the man and his damned helmet. This couldn’t be the end of it, he knew, but without any willingness from Ren to interact on the subject he couldn’t say anything further. Frustrated, he returned Ren’s nod and left. He waited until there were several corridors between them before ducking into a service hallway and letting himself sag against the wall in relief.

\--------------------------------------------------------

A week passed. Ren made himself scarce. If it weren’t for his tracker, Hux would have thought Ren had left the ship. He spent most of his time in his quarters. Meditating, perhaps? However he occupied his time didn’t really matter, Hux decided, as long as his ship didn’t suffer any further depredations.

A second week passed without incident, and then a third. It couldn’t last, he knew, but he allowed himself to hope as his sleep patterns approached normal and the headache he’d lived with for weeks dissipated. When Captain Plasma sent a request for a private meeting he allowed himself a frustrated sigh as he worked it into his schedule. It seemed their reprieve had come to an end.

Phasma didn’t speak right away. She fidgeted, which worried Hux in and of itself. Phasma never presented anything but a collected, professional demeanor. If something had her ill at ease it meant a return of headaches for himself, Hux thought.

“I hesitated to bring this to your attention, General. It seemed minor, at least at first.” She had refused to sit and Hux’s neck ached, looking up at her. “We have had some … disturbances. Arguments, hot tempers. We’ve had a few squabbles. Yesterday a fist fight broke out in the mess hall.”

Hux's eyebrows shot up.

"I wouldn't have mentioned it to you, sir, except in each case the troopers who've instigated the incidents seem mystified by their actions. They have no explanation for their behavior and say they felt like they weren't in control of themselves, that it seemed as if they were being influenced or manipulated. I have no evidence to support my suspicions, but considering they began shortly after Kylo Ren stopped, well, you know...." She trailed off.

Oh, look. His headache had returned. Joy. 

"I’ll need the recordings of each of these incidents." Phasma placed the datapad she’d been holding on his desk. "I’ll investigate from here. Inform my staff that I am not to be disturbed unless there is an emergency."

"Very good, sir."

She saluted and left.

Now alone, he allowed himself a moment to sag back in his chair. Rubbing at his temples relieved the impending headache as well as it normally did, which was to say not at all. Sighing, he dragged the datapad across his desk.

One of greatest strengths of First Order, in his opinion, lay in its record keeping. It took him only a few minutes to pinpoint Ren’s tracker in his quarters during every one of the incidents detailed in Phasma's report. Next, he pulled up the holo records.

Ren had shorted out the holocameras in his corridor so many times that Hux had given up ordering repairs so he had no way of monitoring the entrance to Ren’s quarters. He split his screen and pulled up the feeds from the nearest operational holos instead. He didn't know what he was looking for but he had a hunch, and he'd learned to pay attention on the rare occasion such a thing occurred.

Several hours later he had dry eyes, an empty belly and the headache to end all headaches. He'd started a tally of the personnel who passed through the corridor to keep himself from going mad and hadn't found any suspicious patterns. He’d almost decided to call it a night when one of the feeds deteriorated into a brief burst of static and then resolved itself again, showing a now empty hallway. A few seconds later, it happened again with another feed. Hux sat bolt upright, accidentally knocking Phasma’s datapad off his desk. He retrieved it and began expanding his search, checking the times of the distortion and switching to the next set of holos. In each of these new feeds the same figure appeared, a tall man in a technician’s olive green jumpsuit and orange safety vest, with hair a lighter but still garish shade of orange. He kept his head down and shoulders hunched as he walked, hiding his face from the holos, but Hux made mental note of as much detail as he could from what the cameras had caught.

Usually technicians were weedy, poor physical specimens that wouldn’t have made it through Academy training. This man broke that unwritten rule. He had a stooped posture and kept his head down and shoulders hunched but his stance couldn’t disguise his excessive height or the breadth of those shoulders. And when he bent down to fiddle with an access panel the jumpsuit molded to a suspiciously muscular ass for a wire jockey. Hux caught himself eyeing it in appreciation and made himself switch holo feeds, tracking the man as he moved through the ship. 

Checking the timestamp on the feed he cross-referenced it with Phasma’s report and fast-forwarded through an hour of watching this person wander aimlessly through corridors. He pulled up the feed from that day’s incident and rewound it and sure enough, the feeds converged. Hux watched as the technician slipped into a service alcove as a patrol of troopers approached. Fingers twitched as the troopers passed and within a few more strides an argument broke out among them and one of the troopers pushed another into the wall.

Another hour and he verified this man’s presence during each of the incidents. It took searching multiple holos but he even found him sitting at a table tucked up in the corner of the mess hall when the fist fight broke out.

Hux had never seen Ren without his helmet but he’d have bet his illicit stash of Corellian whiskey it was him in that jumpsuit. 

“You bastard,” Hux ground out through clenched teeth. He didn’t have to decide what to do about his discovery right away. Orders arrived from the Supreme Leader and Ren left on a mission. They were graced with his absence for almost two weeks and, corroborating Phasma’s theory, there were none of the types of disturbances that she had brought to his attention during Ren’s absence. Hux put the time to good use altering a tracking program to suit his purposes and testing it. He spent several hours following Phasma’s movements through the ship one afternoon, the program tweaked to hone in on her polished armor.

After Ren's return he set up an alert to be notified if and when the orange hair appeared. It took three days but he had patience. This reminded him of some of the exercises his father had set him as a child. When the alert finally came he paralleled Ren through the ship, keeping several corridors between them. When Ren entered the lower mess hall he waited ten minutes and then went in himself.

The mess went dead quiet at his appearance. Troopers froze in place, some of them half sitting or with forks raised. Hux didn't acknowledge their reaction as he strolled between the tables. He projected a casual demeanor, acting as if were perfectly normal for the ship's ultimate commander to randomly visit a common mess.

He stopped to chat with a squad along the outer edges of the room, moved in a few tables, stopped again. Hux carefully kept his thoughts controlled, focusing on his annoyance with the reports he'd received about trouble in the ranks, kept all thoughts of Ren and his subterfuge tucked into the deepest recesses of his brain. He concentrated on the outrage he felt, that such a thing could happen on his ship and how his father would have reacted if he learned about such behavior from troopers that had come out of his training program. 

To all intents and purposes his path appeared random but he eventually made his way past the table where the orange haired man sat. As Hux walked by the man looked up for just a moment and Hux finally got a good look at him. He got the impression of huge brown eyes and lush lips framed by an angular face before the man dropped his gaze and looked down again.

As Hux strode past the man he caught him sneaking another sidelong look and their eyes met. Shame about the hair, Hux thought. If not for that unfortunate color he’d be gorgeous. Surprised at the turn his thoughts had taken, he almost missed seeing the flush of red rise upwards from the man’s collar. Interesting. He continued on his way through the room, pausing now and then to exchange a few words with random troopers. 

(Art by [generallyperfect](http://generallyperfect.tumblr.com/generallyperfect))  


Conversation had resumed, a low hum that faded as he approached and rose again behind him. He didn’t want to leave too soon after eyeballing his target but at last he decided enough time had passed to allay suspicion and he made his way to the exit. Almost before the door closed behind him he sent Phasma a message, warning her there might be an incident soon and to be alert, and moved on to the next phase of his plan.

Overriding the lock on Ren’s quarters he let himself in. Ren had senior officers’ quarters, a mate to Hux’s own, but it didn’t seem that he took advantage of them. The front receiving room, the one that Hux used for an office, contained not even a single piece of furniture and the sleeping chamber had only a bed, a table and one chair. An assortment of electronic parts and tools littered the table but there were no signs of any personal items. Black robes lay strewn across the bed in an untidy jumble. Ren’s belt with the tracker in place sat on top of them. His helmet rested on a stand next to the wall.

Disconnecting the automatic lights, Hux took up position just inside the doorway to the refresher unit, shrouded in shadows. He bit back a snort of laughter when he saw the shattered mirror. Restarting his tracking program, he saw Ren had left the mess hall and was on the move. When at last it looked like he might be heading back to his quarters Hux turned the datapad off and placed it on the floor. He eased off his boots and set them next to the pad, laid his hat on top of them and set himself to wait in the shadows just inside the ‘fresher door.

He’d had practice in this, hours of it as a child, standing at attention, completely still in mind as well as body, not letting any thought intrude lest it cause an expression to cross his face and incur punishment. He focused on his breaths, in and out, slipping into a near trance as the minutes passed. He had no idea how much time had elapsed before the doors to Ren’s quarters opened. His subconscious registered the vest, the jumpsuit, the hair, but he remained silent, still. He almost lost his control when Ren pulled off what proved to be a wig, revealing dark brown, almost black hair, beneath. 

Quieting himself, Hux didn’t let any thoughts intrude again as Ren toed off his boots, let the vest drop to the floor. He started moving forward, silent on bare feet as he took one step, two steps. Ren had unzipped the jumpsuit, let it slide down his shoulders, still unaware of Hux behind him and Hux nearly lost it again at the sight of muscles rippling under pale skin as the jumpsuit fell away. By this time, he’d gotten within arms’ length, though, so Hux finally spoke.

“What trouble did you start this time, you annoying little shit?”

Ren whirled at the sound of his voice and Hux took satisfaction at the shock in Ren’s eyes as he saw Hux’s fist coming at his face. Hux put the weight of his whole body behind it, landing a solid blow on Ren’s jaw. It shocked Hux when Ren dropped like a rock. 

Well, then. How unexpected. It seemed Knights of Ren had glass jaws just like ordinary humans. Ren showed no sign of stirring – he was well and truly out. Hux decided he didn’t want to wait for him to wake up on his own but a search of Ren’s quarters left him with little options. When his eyes settled on the helmet he grinned. Filling it with cold water would ruin the electronics. It would be a piece of petty revenge but Ren deserved it after repeatedly wreaking havoc on Hux’s ship.

When he dumped the water out onto Ren’s head, Ren gasped, eyes flying open, back arching with shock. Hux threw the helmet aside and dropped to his knees, straddling Ren, grabbing his wrists and forcing them up over his head. Ren reacted just as Hux had expected. When Ren hit him with the Force he concentrated on just one thing – keeping his grasp on Ren’s wrists. As he flew backwards he pulled Ren with him. He would have laughed at the expression on Ren’s face as Hux yanked him along for the ride but the double impact drove the breath from his lungs as he hit the floor and Ren landed on top of him. He recovered first and rolled, pinning Ren to the ground again.

This time Ren tried to choke him with the Force. Unfortunately for him, he’d used this trick too many times in public and Hux had prepared for this as well. When Hux felt his throat constrict he let go of one wrist and slapped Ren across the jaw, making sure he hit exactly where his punch had landed a few seconds ago. Ren’s head rocked with the blow and he could breathe again.

Hux waited. Ren lay still beneath him for a few seconds, eyes closed, breathing in and out. Next Ren would try his mind control tricks, Hux knew. When Ren opened his mouth to say something Hux slapped him again, across the cheek this time. His research had suggested Ren’s mind tricks wouldn’t work on the strong willed but he didn’t feel like taking chances.

“None of that now,” he cautioned as Ren tried to speak again and Ren subsided, sullen. “I don’t know what purpose these little disturbances of yours serve, but they too will stop.”

Hux didn’t have any warning this time. Ren pushed up off from the floor, shoving Hux backwards with more than just physical strength. His back hit the floor and though he tried to fight it his arms were forced down as well.

This time Ren straddled him, leaning forward, forearms pressing down into Hux’s biceps, his face close enough that Hux could feel his breath on his cheek. Ren had his limbs pinned but not his entire body. It made no sense to Hux. Ren had a weight advantage. Why didn’t he use it to the fullest? Hux tried to use the extra leverage this gave him, pushing up in an attempt to throw Ren off. It got a reaction, but not anything Hux had expected. His efforts didn’t dislodge Ren but Hux heard a hitch in his breath and saw a dilation of his pupils at his movements. Interesting, Hux thought.

“Did you think you could actually win against me?” Ren hissed. He shifted his weight and Hux felt a heat against his thigh, a bulge pressing against him. Hux grinned again. He had one more weapon in his arsenal, it seemed. Unexpected, but he could work with it. Instead of answering he surged upward and kissed Ren.

It was more collision than kiss but it had the desired effect. Ren reared back and Hux had control of his limbs again. He rolled them once more, burying one hand in Ren’s hair, pressing a thumb into the sore spot on his jaw, taking full advantage as Ren’s lips parted with a gasp. It was hard, brutal, a continuation of their struggle, and within a few moments Ren began to fight him for control of the kiss. Hux still had the upper hand, though. Unlike Ren, he hadn’t started this encounter half naked. When his fingers brushed over Ren's nipple Ren moaned into his mouth, arching beneath him. Propping himself up on one elbow he rolled the sensitive flesh between finger and thumb, delighting in how Ren responded to his touch. He let his hand trail lower, following the curve of a rib, the lines of muscle, sliding downwards, working his way underneath the jumpsuit where it still clung to Ren's hip. Fingers dug into his back as he pushed the jumpsuit down, grazing Ren's hipbone with his thumb.

His priorities had changed, he realized. Where at first he’d thought to stop Ren in his latest madness, now he found himself concentrating on how much of Ren's naked flesh he could get his hands on. Every touch reminded him of how long it had been since he’d last indulged himself. What better way to find release, he thought, than with the man who’d added so much stress to his life these last few months?

He let Ren flip them again and took advantage, raking his nails down Ren's back as Ren bit at his neck above the collar of his coat. Pushing the jumpsuit done even further, he cupped Ren's ass as he rolled his hips, grinding up into him. Ren retaliated with another kiss, fierce, demanding, a mess of lips and teeth and tongue.

Focused on the kiss, Hux wasn't prepared when Ren got his knees under him, grabbed Hux by his hips and lifted. He was doubly unprepared when invisible hands pulled him upright, crushing him against Ren’s chest. Ren stood one in fluid motion, bringing Hux up with him as if he weighed nothing. Hux wrapped his legs around Ren's waist by sheer reflex and the sound that escaped his throat could only be described as undignified. Ren had the nerve to chuckle and Hux responded, tangling his hands in Ren's hair and pulling, exposing the lines of his neck. When Hux bit down Ren stumbled, and then shivered as Hux’s laughter ghosted over his skin.

Ren carried him the few short strides to the bed and threw him down on top of his robes. Hux squirmed until he got Ren’s belt out from underneath him, throwing it off the bed. Ren made quick work of the fastenings on Hux’s uniform, mouth following fingers down his chest, nipping at him through the thin cloth of his undershirt. Hux gladly helped him slide the coat off, although he did wince when Ren threw it across the room after his belt, imagining the wrinkles he’d find in it later. 

His undershirt was next, Ren’s fingers grazing against Hux’s ribs as he pulled it up. While Hux’s arms and head were still tangled in the garment Ren pushed him back on to the bed. When he realized Ren had trapped his arms and cut off his vision Hux tried to struggle, but no matter how he twisted and turned the fabric remained in place and then Ren kissed him again, drawing back with teasing licks and nips at Hux’s lips when he tried to return it. Hux began to suspect he might have irretrievably lost control of the situation and following close on this came the realization that he didn't care. With his vision still obscured and every touch amplified, he’d never felt this sensitive, had never before responded like this to anyone. Fingers teased along his jaw and caressed his sides. There were too many hands touching him, he realized, and then there were fingers scraping his scalp and how had Ren managed that through the fabric that smothered him?

“Oh, now that’s cheating,” he managed to gasp out as caresses began inside his pants. He couldn’t tell which touches were physical anymore and which were manipulations of the Force, but with the lower half of his uniform still in place he could make a guess at that one.

“I didn’t realize there were rules to this encounter, General,” Ren murmured in between kisses as he worked his way downwards. “If we were playing fair, shouldn’t you have warned me before you threw that punch?”

Hux’s attempt at a response disappeared in a moan when Ren's tongue flicked across his nipple. Ren alternated between teasing licks and nips while working at Hux's pants, drawing them down over his hips. Still immobilized, wrists over his head, vision obscured, Hux writhed. He tried to bite back his cries but a whine escaped despite himself at the first brush of fingers along his cock and the lightest of scratches along his inner thighs. His struggles were useless. His hands remained bound to the mattress as if encased in durasteel and the fabric covering his eyes might as well have been glued in place. No such restraints were on the rest of his clothes and he shivered at the chill air on his bare skin as Ren divested him of his trousers.

“Is something the matter, Hux?” Ren’s breath teased across Hux’s abdomen as he spoke, and Hux could hear the smug grin he wore reflected in his voice. 

“Dammit, Ren, at least let me see you!” He could feel Ren freeze in place at the words, realized his words had come out wrong. He’d actually meant to say _Let me see_. His slip of the tongue seemed to have had an effect on Ren, though, because he pulled back. Hux felt the mattress spring as Ren rose, and from the noises he heard Ren had shed the jumpsuit. The mattress dipped again and he could sense the heat of Ren’s body over his. Fingers brushed over his cheekbones, traced the line of the fabric obscuring his sight, then pulled it up, freeing his eyes. He still couldn’t move his arms but at least he could finally see what Ren was up to, and the sight did not disappoint. 

Hux had a list of descriptive terms for Ren that he’d begun developing the day the man had descended on his ship. Before this evening, it had consisted entirely of words and phrases like “immature,” “out of control,” “childish,” and “pain in my ass.” With each passing second he found the list increasing in length. The new adjectives had taken on a different flavor, though. “Gorgeous” was the first new word of the evening, and “sexy” another. “Well-endowed.” Enough to make Hux’s mouth water, yes. “Eminently fuckable.” Considering how things were going, that needed to be there too. And he would have never guessed that he might consider “exhibitionist” as a candidate, but he filled it in as he watched Ren straddle him, cock in hand, stroking himself, a smile playing at the corners of his mouth.

“Is this what you wanted to see, General?”

Oh, that mouth. The things he wanted that mouth to do. A bruise had started to bloom on Ren’s jaw already, payment for all the weeks of headaches. It was beautiful, Ren with his head thrown back, eyes half closed, all long lines of muscle under pale skin, and now he had another word that he’d never imagined adding to his list.

Seeing Hux’s attention on him, Ren’s tentative smile turned into a grin, a mischievous expression that Hux wouldn’t have believed if it he hadn’t seen it. As he watched, Ren traced the side of his neck with his fingers and Hux twitched at the sensation of a similar touch on his own neck.

“Something the matter, Hux?” Ren trailed his fingers down his neck, then back and forth along his collarbones and Hux felt that as well. Ren’s attentions were more focused now and it seemed to Hux that he existed in two places at once as the feedback amplified, one set of fingers caressing two bodies. He should have expected it but it still caught him unprepared when the perception of a hand working its way down his chest was joined by another, wrapping itself around his cock. He sensed no warmth of flesh on flesh and yet he still felt it, mirrored with the movement of Ren’s hand on his own cock. Ren set a slow pace, torturously so. Hux would have applauded him for seeking revenge in such a fashion if he could move his damn hands. A whine of frustration escaped him when Ren showed no signs of picking up the pace.

“Is something the matter, Hux?” Ren repeated. “Do you want something? More, perhaps?” Ren released his cock briefly, reached out his hand. A rattle sounded from across the room and a tube of lubricant flew into Ren’s hand. Even though his motions had ceased the feel of Ren’s touches continued. Ren squeezed a few drops of lubricant out onto his fingers and rubbed them together, then dragged the pad of his slick thumb over the tip of his cock.

That registered too. “Bastard,” he managed to choke out at the sensation. Encouraged by Hux’s reaction Ren paused long enough to squeeze a few more drops into his palm and then returned to touching himself. Hux found himself unable to writhe in response, with legs trapped as they were between Ren’s, and he swore again. This only seemed to encourage Ren, reminding Hux that “frustrating” had a place high on his list.

Ren’s touches were light, slow, lazy strokes, a gentle rhythm with no promise of release. He was still restrained, but with Ren already in his mind he decided on another angle of attack. He focused on Ren, on those lips, slightly parted, swollen and bruised. He imagined what they would look like wrapped around his cock, that instead of Ren’s Force-induced touch what he felt was Ren’s mouth on him, tongue swirling, hot and wet. If he had access to that mouth he would fuck into it, hands buried in that hair, hit the back of Ren’s throat with every thrust, make him choke on it.

Was it his imagination or had Ren picked up the pace, just a bit? He tried another series of images, Ren on his knees, hands clasped behind his back. Hux pictured pulling on Ren’s hair, forcing Ren further down on his cock. Ren’s breath hitched and his eyelids fluttered. Emboldened, he took it even further, Ren still on his knees, Hux clinging to his shoulders, sinking down on him, Ren’s hands gripping his hips as he rose up to meet him. His hips twitched in response to his own thoughts and had those moans come from Ren’s mouth or his?

“Is something the matter, Ren?” he asked, mimicking Ren’s inflection, proud at how steady he kept his voice. He should have kept his mouth shut, he knew, but his habit of needling Ren was too ingrained. Ren didn’t say anything in response, just stared down at Hux, breath grown hoarse, eyes wide, and it was Hux’s turn to smirk. Physically constrained and with Ren looming over him, he could still push the man off balance. He counted it another minor victory in their little war but then Ren went and upped his game, forcing first one knee down between Hux’s thighs, then the other, spreading his legs apart and settling between them. Leaning in, he let his hands fall, resting on top of Hux’s thighs, thumbs making circular motions in the sensitive skin, watching Hux with his head tilted to the side as he inched his hands upwards.

Hux worked to keep his smirk in place, to not show any reaction, but he could felt his expression grow increasingly strained, and when one of Ren’s thumbs found the crease where his thigh met his ass and the other brushed up against his balls a whimper escaped him despite his best efforts. When Ren’s finger, still slick with oil, teased around his hole and then pressed in, Hux couldn’t contain the shudder that rippled through him.

“Is this what you want?” Ren asked as he worked his finger deeper.

“Fuck, yes,” Hux choked out. 

Ren chuckled, damn him, and began to work his finger in and out, slowly, so good but not good enough. He wanted more and Ren was taking too long in giving it to him. His frustration must have shown because Ren grinned again, that lopsided expression more endearing than it had any right to be. The damnable man added a second finger at last, increased his pace. He maintained a steady rhythm but it had to be deliberate, how he managed to avoid Hux’s prostate. He couldn’t could miss it that completely without trying. Hux squirmed, trying to angle himself, to force Ren’s hand where he wanted it, and Ren shook his head.

“Ready to admit defeat, General?”

He would wipe that damned smirk off of Ren’s face no matter what it took.

“Not if this is all you’re good for,” he shot back. Again, not the wisest response but it got the desired result. Ren curled his fingers and a miniature supernova exploded at the base of Hux’s spine. After several more long, slow slides Ren added a third finger, continuing to twist and brush up against that spot with every thrust and Hux bucked up into his hand, electricity flickering along his spine.

He couldn’t disguise how ragged his breathing had become, couldn’t contain the whines and whimpers Ren’s fingers drew out of him. He expected Ren to tease him, gloat, draw it out and make him beg but Ren surprised him one more time. He didn’t have time to gather enough breath to protest when Ren withdrew his fingers. There was no slow tease this time and they groaned in unison as Ren pushed his way in, thick and burning. He didn’t pause, didn’t give Hux time to adjust before he began a punishing pace. He gripped Hux’s hip with one hand, let the other drag up and down Hux’s chest, fingernails raking along his ribs. With each stroke Hux could feel both Ren plunging into him, stretching and filling him, and the heat, the friction that Ren felt as Hux clenched around him.

Hux didn’t realize his wrists were no longer restrained until Ren lifted him, a push between his shoulder blades bringing him upright and here they were now, just as he’d pictured moments before. Hux clung to Ren’s shoulders as Ren crushed him to his chest. Ren held Hux there, fingers digging into his back, breath harsh against his neck. 

Now that he had the opportunity Hux took it, exploring the curve of Ren’s hip, the lines of muscle in his back, mapping his neck and shoulder with lips and tongue. It didn’t take long for Ren to respond, hands hard on Hux’s hips, lifting him up, letting him fall, snapping up to meet him. Hux reveled in the wild look in Ren’s eyes as he ground down onto him. Was he back inside Ren’s head again or Ren was in his? The pain of Ren’s fingers denting the skin at his hips merged with Ren’s pain as skin parted beneath Hux’s nails and both sensations merged with the pleasure radiating out from their cores. He forgot who was bruised and who bloodied as Ren continued to assault his senses and still he wanted more.

Hux leaned back, tugging at Ren’s shoulders, pulling Ren down on top of him, rutting up into him as Ren crushed him into the mattress. Ren growled, voice hoarse and broken, choking out filthy endearments in a multitude of languages as Hux hooked his legs behind his knees, pulling him even closer. Ren slid an arm beneath him, lifted his hips and that finished him, shattered him. Hux couldn’t breathe with it, mind and body frozen as his orgasm tore through him and Ren followed him an instant later, their pleasure combining and building off each other in waves until he thought his heart would burst. It came to an abrupt end with a sudden jolt and crash as the bed slammed into the wall and the table tipped over, scattering its contents across the floor.

Gasping for breath, Ren collapsed on top of him, and Hux found himself powerless to do anything about it. Just when he thought he might suffocate from the sheer weight of the man, the pressure lessened as Ren shifted, partially supporting himself on his forearms. Floating on endorphins, Hux couldn’t find it in himself to protest as Ren nuzzled at his neck, placing soft kisses at the base of his jaw. But when Ren’s caresses traveled up towards Hux’s temple, of all the things they’d done to each other this evening it was this intimacy of this gesture that proved to be too much. As Ren tried to capture his lips he turned his head and Ren’s breath warmed his temple when he laughed.

“Something amuses you, Ren?”

“I knew you’d be a sore loser.”

Hux turned to look and yes, that damned lopsided smirk was back.

“Loser? You think you won, do you?” Hux could still manage a sneer, he found, even as limp as he felt.

“Don’t you?”

In response, Hux dug his fingers into the welts he’d left on Ren’s back. When Ren flinched, he laughed. “Nothing about this feels like a loss, Ren.” He managed to get his arms under Ren and pushed and Ren allowed it, sliding off to the side and coming to rest next to him on the bed. They’d made a complete wreck of Ren’s robes, he noted, and allowed himself a moment of vindictive glee.

He managed to turn over and after a few breaths to sit up. A few more breaths and he stood. Years of self-imposed discipline kept him from limping as he walked to the refresher. Thumbing his datapad back on, he skimmed through his messages. Once he’d verified that he hadn’t missed anything important he stepped into the ‘fresher cubicle. 

Ren’s ‘fresher, like his own, had the option for a water shower instead of sonics but he didn’t allow himself to indulge. He’d done enough of that already. The shattered mirror made even more of a mess of his hair than Ren had and he did his best to straighten it by feel. He’d have to rely on his hat to cover what a sight it was. Even without the aid of a mirror he could see the mess of bruises that covered his body. It didn’t look like any of them would show above the collar of his coat, thank goodness, but his wrists and hips were already livid. 

When Hux emerged from the ‘fresher it was to the sight of Ren, still unclothed, stretched out on his back on the bed. He idly spun that horrible wig on a finger while he gestured with the other hand, levitating the scattered bits on the floor back into place on the now-upright table. The sight of him almost tempted Hux into another round but he had work still to do that evening. His coat was less wrinkled than he feared it would be. It could have been in worse condition, he noted, as it had missed landing in the puddle of water on the floor by mere centimeters.

He sensed Ren watching him as he dressed although whenever he glanced over he couldn’t catch him at it. It took no time to put himself back in order. Nothing kept him from leaving but he still lingered, reluctant to go. The wig gave him an excuse. “So tell me. Why the wig? And in such a horrid color?”

Ren shrugged. “I didn’t want to be recognized at a later date. Anyone who noticed me focused on the wig and didn’t pay any attention to the rest of me. No one ever looked at my face except you. They just stared at the hair.”

Hux wouldn’t have given Ren credit for subtlety before this, but had to admit to the brilliance of his plan, although he’d never tell Ren he thought so. Most importantly, he couldn’t allow Ren to continue with his little scheme. He’d just revealed an entirely unsuspected facet of his personality and Hux didn’t want to find out what other subterfuge he might be capable of. He crossed the distance between them and took the wig from him. When Ren protested he grabbed Ren by the hair, pulling him in for a kiss.

“The next time you feel the urge for random acts of destruction or mayhem, you will come see me. Is that understood?” Ren started to say something but Hux didn’t allow it, silencing him with another kiss. When he broke away Ren didn’t try to speak this time and satisfied, Hux forced himself to leave. 

The corridors were deserted at this late hour, sparing Hux from having to explain the balled-up wad of orange hair he carried. He chucked the wig into the first garbage chute he passed.

\--------------------------------------------------------

The next week he didn’t see Ren at all. He didn’t hear about him either. It was a good thing, he kept reminding himself. The bruises on his wrists distracted him at random moments for the first few days as his cuffs and gloves pressed against them, but they soon faded. If he sometimes lost the thread of a conversation for a few seconds, instead thinking of dark hair, full lips, huge eyes, and pale skin, no one seemed to notice. And when his thoughts wandered to more unpleasant thoughts, thoughts of how one encounter with Ren may have ruined him forever for sex with anyone else, or how he had volunteered to whore himself out to save the First Order a few credits (and his brain insisted on using his father’s voice for that one), he forced them back in line. 

The week after that Ren disappeared from the _Finalizer_ without notice and without letting anyone know when he would return with the Stormtroopers he commandeered. Hux let the diminishing sums on the line entries for repairs in his budget salve his annoyance at this.

\--------------------------------------------------------

Hux’s door opened without a chime and Ren strode in. 

“Ren. I wasn’t notified of your return.”

Ren didn’t say anything, just stood there only a few paces into Hux’s office, fists clenching and unclenching, shoulders hunched forward and head down.

“Ren?”

Ren’s voice sounded strained even through the voice modulator in his helmet. “You said to come to you when ….” He trailed off.

Hux heartbeat sped up as Ren reached up and thumbed the release on his helmet. Ren’s eyes were wild, darting up and down, focusing on Hux’s eyes, his lips, the floor, and back again.

“I did, yes.”

As Ren dropped his helmet with a thud Hux winced, wondering if he’d have a dent in his floor now. Stripping off his gloves as he went, Ren strode across his office. When he reached Hux’s desk instead of going around he climbed over it, scattering flimsies and datachips in his wake as he crawled across the surface. Hux started to protest but Ren pulled him forward, one hand tugging at the collar of Hux’s coat, the other buried in his hair as he kissed him, desperate and hungry.

Somehow he ended up in Hux’s lap, straddling him on his chair and grinding down onto him, already hot and hard. Kriffing hells, the man weighed a ton. Hux shifted, trying to find a more comfortable position and Ren must have sensed his discomfort because he stood, picking Hux up with that inhuman strength. He turned, settled himself in Hux’s chair with Hux straddling him and resumed where he’d left off.

His comm chimed and Hux swore.

“Ignore it,” Ren said as he kissed his way along Hux’s jaw.

“I need to answer it, if only to tell whoever it is not to bother me again.”

Ren growled in response but didn’t object when Hux twisted, trying to locate the damn comm button in the mess Ren had made. “What!” he snapped when he finally found it.

“General Hux, sir.” Phasma sounded worried. “Kylo Ren’s shuttle docked approximately twenty minutes ago.”

Ren’s hand tangled in his hair, knocking his hat off and Hux barely caught it before it hit the desk.

“From trooper reports, Ren’s mission wasn’t successful. They stated that he was agitated when he disembarked. We’re on tantrum watch again, it seems.”

Denied Hux’s lips, Ren skimmed along Hux’s jaw and he had to swallow a groan when teeth nipped at his earlobe. He must have made some kind of noise, though, something that must have carried through the comm.

“Sir, are you alright?”

It took Hux a moment to find his voice and he knew it sounded strained when he answered.

“I’ll take care of it, Phasma.”

“Sir?” The worry in Phasma’s voice hadn’t decreased.

“That will be all, Captain.” He barely had time to cut the channel before Ren’s teeth were at his throat, worrying at the skin and then sinking in.

“Dammit, Ren. Not there. Not where it’ll leave a mark.”

In response, Ren’s fingers slid in between his skin and the collar of his coat. He pulled and the reinforced fabric ripped like flimsi. Hux started to protest but it turned into a groan as Ren bit down on his collarbone. One more pull and the front of his jacket gave way completely.

“Barbarian. There are fastenings, you know.”

Ren didn’t bother responding. Well, not with words, anyways. When hands settled at Hux’s waist he undid his belt and trousers himself, not wanting to find out if Ren would tear those off as well. Ren took advantage, hands sliding down inside his clothes as he continued to suck and bite his way down Hux’s neck.

This time when Ren stood, lifting him, he was somewhat prepared. Or at least he thought so until Ren deposited him on his desk and knelt between his legs. Ren stared up at him, held his gaze as he stripped off Hux’s boots, followed by his pants.

“I’ve been thinking of this ever since ….” Ren’s words trailed off as he rubbed his cheek against Hux’s cock.

He’d had many occasions to curse Kylo Ren over the last few months and now he’d be doing more of it, every single day from here on out. Because how would he sit at his desk and concentrate on his work when he’d have to fight against remembering this? How his whole body had sung at the feel of Ren’s mouth on his cock as he knelt behind Hux’s desk. How the cold metal bit into his back and how the edges had crumpled under Ren’s grip as Ren fucked him on top of it. He’d do it now, except he couldn’t find the voice to do anything but moan as Ren thrust into him, scream as Ren drove him through another of those mind-melting orgasms, sigh as Ren collapsed on top of him, warm and heavy and spent.

\--------------------------------------------------------

Phasma was worried about the General. Well, still worried. It had been hours since their comm call, since general had said he would "take care of" the Ren situation and she hadn't heard anything from him.

Hux had no obligation to report his actions to her, she reminded herself for the umpteenth time. It was the middle of gamma shift and the General was off duty, and she hadn’t received any notifications of new problems either that would warrant her disturbing his rest period so she had no legitimate reason to check on him. And yet she found this quiet more disturbing than any report of havoc she might have received. 

Either Ren had learned to control himself or the General had handled it, as he said he would. She tried, but couldn’t imagine what any kind of “handling” would entail. They’d sparred together often enough to give her a healthy respect for Hux’s skills at unarmed combat but she’d seen Ren in action and knew the General wouldn’t stand a chance against him in a real fight. She didn’t think Ren would really harm the General if it came to that. Well, not permanently at least, unless he wished to face the Supreme Leader’s wrath. But it would be just her luck to be proven wrong and she’d never served under a better commanding officer.

Finally she gave in to temptation and slipped into one of the auxiliary control rooms on a lower deck. Closing the door behind her, she punched a series of codes she shouldn’t have access to into a terminal. When the data started feeding across the screen she shook her head in disbelief. According to this, Kylo Ren's tracker hadn’t moved from General Hux's quarters for hours. She scrolled back, but its location didn't change. According to the timestamp Ren hadn't left the general's quarters for the entire evening. In fact, the data showed Ren present in his office before she’d notified Hux of his return.

"Well, well," she said at last. "I guess that's one way of handling the problem. Who would have guessed?" Shaking her head again, she used another series of codes she wasn't supposed to have to erase all traces of her activities. Once completed, she shut the console down and headed off to her own well-earned rest.

**Author's Note:**

> A shout-out to all the authors and artists from the Big Bang. Y'all are an amazing lot and the last few months, getting to know all of you, have been incredible. This is the best fandom, I swear. XOXOXO
> 
> (There's an outtake involving Ren's wig [here](http://archiveofourown.org/works/6199471)!)
> 
> Feel free to come over and say hi on [tumblr](http://thewightknight.tumblr.com/).


End file.
